She could not let him go, Part Two
Chapter four
It had been a long warm pressing hot day.
It had been over two years since she found Monroe in Mexico. Broken, bloody. Sitting in that room, absolutely broken now the rage had subsided. After working his through Nunez' men and finally Nunez himself.
She had been hunting. She carried her loot of two rabbits and a smaller squirrel with her. She walked through familiar gates. Sylvania estates. Home. Home for so long.
Home again.
2 years ago
They had talked about it. Many times. Long. Often. But she wanted to go back. If they could not go back to Chicago, because of memories too sharp. If they could not go back to Philly because of a city in destruction and too much hurt waiting there, too much of a future that should have been different, after both Miles and Bass had chosen the city to build something that turned into their darkest build.
They were both equally filled with dread. She knew, she felt it, she watched it in their shoulders and silent meeting of eyes between brothers. But they had followed her anyway. Their group of three, ranks closed. Followed her all the way through the country as the landscape around them changed.
She started to recognise trees and scents. And there it was, her home. A wider path through the fields. Trees surrounding it. The small group of houses with a gate around it, just like she had left it. She felt the first press of sadness, sharp and so fast, of Aaron not walking behind her, with his backpack and glasses on.
Miles was quiet, so was Bass. So she did what she knew how to do. She placed boot after boot in the ground and kept on going. She saw the house. Her heartbeat picked up as warm memories were there first. Warmth and goodness winning it from the desolated darker memories. They greeted her all when she placed a first step in the sand inside the walls that protected the town.
Charlie looked around her and kept on walking, slowing down her steps until her father's grave came into sight. Until warmth moved away and darkness crept in. She remembers him, dying. Dying right before her, with kind eyes that Ben Matheson, her dad, showed his daughter one more time. And there, she had finally time to grieve her father as she sat down next to the place she, Maggie, Aaron and kind friends and neighbours had created for Ben.
Miles had been restless. Shame and guilt that were still there to feel catching up. Bass kept to himself, giving Miles room to walk over to Charlie as he could see all the guilt and shame and pain, everything that was going on in his brothers eyes. He knew this place, only from reports Neville had send him, he knew this place from that son of a bitch's debriefing in his office. But now that place became real. Ben, the man he always felt as his big brother, died here. Because of the warrant Miles and he made. Because from any of his man at his command, he had sent Tom Neville for him. Palpable, as old shame and guilt that will never go away again, reached him. Again. He bowed his head, pursed his lips together and swallowed thickly.
Miles walked over to the small grave of his brother. Benjamin. Big brother. Kind hearted. Smartass. Belonging to a time in Jasper where it was him, Bass, his old man, his mother who he never had that bond with that Bass had with Gail, Gail, William, Angela, Cynthia. Emma. School. Endless summers, playing soldiers, running through grass, over the bridge of the small creek. Life was simple then.
Nothing was simple now.
Bit it had been then. He was not sure if Charlie would let him close. But this was Charlie, and this girl had been loyal to him since day one. Heavy tear-drops clouded her eyes and then fell over her cheeks. He crouched down next to her, slowly. Charlie moved her head towards his chest, finding that place right under his chin that belonged to her. Only to her. He held her, as the sun slowly set and they sat in front of a grave, of her father, his brother. A man loved so very much by both of them.
It got dark, the sun moved over and down the forests surrounding them. Eventually Charlie walked back into the house. Their house now. It was the familiar scent that filled her with more memories inside.
Bass was still outside, as Miles followed her inside, his eyes went through the room. She threw her things on a couch. Some things had changed, some things made it through time. The house had not been touched, the small community had kept it for her, for them to come back to. Even when Ben and Maggie were slowly faded into time, the community had kept that house empty and after that nobody touched it.
The couch, the fireplace, the large wooden diner table. Their pictures. The scent. All treasures to be discovered. Painful. So very painful. But also so very worth it as Charlie let her hand go over the mantel piece near the fireplace.
But the moment Charlie stepped into her old bedroom, and she walked past Danny's and sat on his bed, she knew she made the right decision. She was home again. This is where she felt safe for so long. She would feel that again here. She just knew.
Miles did not talk much, as Charlie showed him the house. Both of them understanding to give the other space.
'Where is Bass?' Charlie asked Miles when they walked back into living room and kitchen.
Miles nodded to the porch where outside, Bass stood still in front of. Charlie opened the screen door of the house. Her boots made the wooden floor under her boots, the wood of the porch creak under her weight.
Bass stood before her. Unsure, his eyes wild, as he pulled a hand through his curls on the back of his head.
'Charlie, I am not sure if this is a good idea...I...' Sebastian Monroe was not the man to ramble a lot, but he was unsure now and his words were not aimed with certainty now. He heard his own words and how damn pathetic he sounded.
He dreaded this day, this moment, this place. He knew for sure this would be the day she realised he had to go, that she would tell him to leave. He would not blame her. She had already given him so much.
She took a step closer.
'You should come inside.' Bass could not pick up on any rejection of bitterness in her voice. She looked at him. Telling him again with his eyes.
'Charlie..' he pressed his lips together, as he had to look away. He could not lose his shit, not here, fuck, not here.
' I get it all right. I get that this place, coming back here is hard. For all of us. '
She turned back, looking at him again.
'But you belong with us Bass.' She gave him that look she threw him outside that church when he had just delivered that Davis asshole. It was soft, and strong and reached straight to him.
Just like then he can't look away over her shoulder.
'It is the three of us now, Bass.'
And it was the way she pronounced his name. The way she made it sound like people had done before, that made him look at her, before she turned and walked inside.
It was late when he finally had the courage to walk his ass inside. He sat down next to Miles, who poured him a glass full of burning whiskey. One sip and he knew this was Ben's. Warm, burning and with class. He almost grins. Ben. The grin was smothered with every piece of fucked up years that came after Ben allowing him into his family. But her hand on his shoulder calmed him down, as Charlie sat down next to Miles and poured herself a second drink.
Since that night time had moved on. She had walked through the gate many times since that day.
They settled into a life. Bass and Miles taking care of the house. Fixed the roof, helped out in the small community where people slowly and gradually accepted them. They kept themselves busy, but could also sit down and just drink with the other. They drank a lot. Bitched a lot, insulted each other a lot. Fell into some kind of normalness as far as their lives would allow.
As far as it would be ever normal after what they had been through. They fought, they grieved.
That was the thing with living with each other in a small town as theirs. That was the thing with living with the three of them, close, heart to heart, hurt next to hurt. There was nowhere to go. It was exactly what happened too when Charlie had to share a road from New Vegas to Willoughby with Bass. It was what made her see there was more to Monroe the moment she came back with him from New Vegas to Willoughby, six months after the tower. She had to share that road with him. She wanted to share her life with him now. Sometimes Miles needed space, as he left for weeks. Bass fell in weeks of dark brooding thoughts and crude remarks and old insults.
Their bond of three made it through those hard weeks and months. Against all odds, but they still made it.
They fought through everything that was still sharp and there from the past, Bass being here, Miles being here, with her in her old home brought every thing back to their doorstep.
The Militia, the madness of his presidency, the betrayal of Miles' when he left Bass to take care of all the shit in Philly.
Connor. Miles' decision to help Emma, to bring him to family in Mexico without ever telling Bass in the years to come, after Emma wrote him for help. Bass' admitting to sleeping with Rachel. Miles' fist in his face. Charlie slamming the door behind her when she had left him and Miles behind. Charlie coming back, telling him exactly and right in his face what a son of a bitch he was for being all in her face about Connor after screwing her mom.
Charlie's rage at her mom with nowhere to go for sleeping with Bass after it was Rachel that had left her, when she had to live her life without her mom , when she had walked out of her life and Danny and her dad, leaving her at the side of that road while she was screwing Bass in Philly at that same time. She had not looked at Bass for the rest of the week. Bass seeing the pain in her face and realise, that his reveal about that one night in Philly, did more to her then he had thought it would be. And he started to realise something. Pushing the fucking pathetic thought away why it did so much to the fucking pathetic thought away that she might have felt the same now as he had done in a field in New Vegas once when he had watched her close, so damn close it still hurt like a bitch, with Connor.
It all stretched them far. Almost too far.
All the sharp edges, all the pain, all the accusations.
Until forgiveness came and put them back together. Slowly.
The weeks passed, turned into months, and those months turned into years. Two years. Life found a rhythm. Charlie dated sometimes. Leaving Bass in bad moods all over again, just like he had been with Connor. Bass fucked his way through his share of woman, drank his way through the nights that stayed lonely, no matter how many woman and booze he looked for. It earned him stares fromCharlie that made him damn uncomfortable for reasons that he could not touch.
It was Miles however that met someone. All Dark hair, gentle eyes, strong, and a no bullshit woman with enough gentleness and openness for them both. Sophie. Charlie watched how he fell in love, right before her eyes. It was good. She told him one night. She was okay. She was happy for him and started to trust and form a bond with the older woman as well. Sophie seemed to understand without Charlie having to even ask. She let Charlie come to her, as friendship between the two woman grew. Even Bass would be there for diner and a glass of whiskey when Sophie had invited him. It was strangely normal and both Bass and Charlie were silently happy for him, for them.
It had been a long warm pressing hot day. It still was a long warm pressing day. It was probably because of that, that it happened the way it happened.
She was warm, in need of cool water. Sweaty, done with hunting, ready for a drink and a cool bath.
Monroe. Perfect. She still called him Monroe when she was pissed. And she was. Pissed. Very pissed.
She saw him a little further ahead, doing his stupid lean against a tree thing. She cursed inwardly. That man knew how to lean. She told herself to get a grip.
Bass watched her walking towards him on the path near high trees. And one look at her shoulders, her lips, god, dammit those lips, told him he was dealing with a very pissed of Charlotte. She probably had the right to be a bit pissed at him.
Last night they had agreed to go hunting together. He knew she did not like that, so that gave him a damn good opportunity to watch her face go all kinds of good annoyance and he got to spend time with her, yanking her chain even a bit more. He would call that a win win situation.
Of course things had gone south from there. He had left a note for her, telling he would be late. A note his brother had placed a glass of whiskey on, staining it and making sure she did not see or ever read it. When Bass had eventually walked into the kitchen without a Charlie there, Miles had told him about a very pissed of Charlie early this morning, who had assumed he was still banging some woman in an other bed than his own. She had been wrong. He had been drinking last night, but he also had promised a neighbour to help him with moving some heavy stuff first thing in the morning. That is why he was late. Of course Charlie had stormed of, giving Miles no time to explain things. Of course his brother had not been that eager to explain things to Charlie, enjoying the whole damn thing way too much.
Before he got a chance to speak she had already opened her damn mouth.
'What do you want, Monroe?' She marched right passed him.
'Really Charlotte, Monroe?' He said, being all ego and sarcasm, pissing her of even more.
They both knew they had moved on from her calling him Monroe and only Monroe, and Bass telling her, made her blue eyes fill with annoyance.
'Hey, Charlie wait, let me explain.' He followed her, her long blonde curls waving with every angry step of her boots.
'No, thank you. Already know,' Charlie said flatly, irritated feeling how close Bass was walking next to her.
'Oh you do huh?' Now Bass was starting to get annoyed too. God, she could be unfuriating.
'Yeah, you'd rather screw another woman than make sure you were there this morning after you asked me yourself to come and hunt with me.'
It was the moment she brought up the screwing another woman part, he knew. His heart started to beat faster. He knew her piss mood, because he had felt the same, so many times, watching her leave with another guy, even thinking about her with another guy.
She had stopped, he stood way to close. A path under the trees, the both of them alone.
'That is bullshit Charlie. I left a note for you, explaining why I was late. That moron just put his glass right on top of it.' He barked.
She dropped her loot to the ground, as he quickly turned her way, blocking her path back home.
There they were, again, chest to chest, her smaller frame right in front of them. Just like then, she would not step away from him. She stepped even closer.
Just like they stood face to face on that path under the trees when he had found her again, after they stood face to face, heartbeat to heartbeat and there was no escaping what had moved between them. One day in Mexico Charlie had wondered if they would ever banter again, if he would ever stand before her again, blue eyes seeking blue eyes, wide shoulders, her breasts so close to a strong chest, blue into blue, bantering, words against words. One locking of the eyes.
She had been afraid they would never be that way again. She realised now she had nothing to fear. Here they were again, emerging from time.
'And I was not screwing some woman last night Charlie. There was no other woman.' His eyes bore into hers, his tone started crude and irritated as hell and turned into a promise of danger and something else, and there was no way out, Charlie could feel her belly and even lower constrict with something that was dangerously close to something real good.
'Why?' She threw in his face. Realising what she had just asked him. Watched the blue go to a steal desire.
The moment she showed her colours, Bass bowed his head, bowed his whole body towards her. Bass kissed her, long, passionate, lifting her almost from the ground with her boots. Her lips under his, as the hairs of his moustache scraped over her skin in a way that set her, all of her, on fire. He tasted warm, like his sweat and all the things he was, and his tongue almost drove her through his knees. He caught her, feeling how fucking good she felt in his arms. Her tits, her hips, he pushed her close, his hands on her ass, pushing her against and over his groin, her demanding one of his large thighs between her legs.
He moved her against the nearest tree. Needing to add more pressure, to get her closer, to make her feel how much she was wanted.
Her hands cupping his face told him how much he was wanted by her.
'Fuck Charlie,' he growled.
'Bass...god...' She answered.
Her body was covered by his, as she held on to strong hard with muscles and training over the years arms.
Bass remembered her, as he watched her now. His mind had been there too, at that moment she had stood before him, under those trees, not far from Vegas. He remembered her, strong, fierce. One look, and he knew she remembered too.
'Wanted you since that moment Charlie,' Bass breathed into her ear, as he looked at her.
And there, he watched Charlie break, break into his arms, as he watched the woman she had become, as he watched them both and what and who they had become in her eyes.
Charlie heard his words, and she realised that there, on that road, after the fire, after the pool, after Pottsboro feelings had been shaken awake that never had gotten back to them not being there. Him being here, all of him, his strength, his darkness, his fear of being left alone that was so much her own, his crudeness, his loyalty. Him, Bass, telling her he wanted her. had been wanting her for so long, drove tears out of her that she was almost ashamed to cry.
But he gently removed them with his thumb. As he slowed down.
As he understood how difficult it was for her to put this into words. She would tell him what she felt, how much of her was his, how much she wanted him, how much she loved him.
She would. And he would be right there, next to her, gentle wide eyes listening to Charlie Matheson telling him she loved him. And he would tell her, with a rough needing kiss, crushing her mouth before he would roughly whisper to her how much he loved her.
But for now she showed him. Showed him how far they had come, all the way here by giving him her.
'Don't stop,' she said, a warm breath and asking blue eyes asking him, telling him, he could take her, all of her, here.
They touched. They removed each others boundaries. A tank, a shirt, pants, boots.
Until he had her in his arms, and his hardness was pressing against her thigh. His male curls above it tickling her stomach, turning her on even more.
She moved her lips, licked the shell of his ear, earning her a grunt.
'Fuck me , Bass.' Words with lust and filled with trust in a deep low moan. It was all he needed, as he moved deep inside of her. Watching her, needing to see how she looked with him moving inch by inch inside of her, her warm tightness colliding with his hardness.
They fucked, hard, needing that release that only the other could give them. Slowing down, because he loved her asking him, begging him for more, as he only wanted to give her more. More of him, more protection, more thrusting, more deeper inside of her, more her almost coming in his arms, eyes looking for eyes.
They made love. It was raw and real.
He looked at her, 'God, Charlotte, you are beautiful,' one kiss, one locking of eyes as he surrendered to her, as she did to him, close to his chest, her legs around his middle.
Chapter five
After that night against that one tree, breathing out of control getting back to normal, her grin, his smirk with pride that made her roll her eyes, nothing really changed. It just moved where they were heading to. Everything changed. But then again, nothing changed.
It was still the three of them. Miles, Charlie and Bass. The people they lost never far, close to them. New people adding slowly to their group of three. New people to love.
A son was born. Charlie would tell him when he grew up. She would tell him all of it.
About two young people who fell in love once, went to college, who wanted to buy their first car, buy their first home. Who wanted to get their family started. Who wanted to make this world a better place and ended up destroying it because of it. Of two people who moved to Chicago, Ben and Rachel Matheson. And started their family. She would tell him where in the story a little boy was born. Danny. Her baby brother. She would tell him about a brave young woman Nora, who became her sister in arms, her friend on the road. She would tell him about the kind, sweet Aaron and Priscilla. She would tell him Aaron's story about Ghostbusters in a city far away.
She would tell him about Connor Bennett. Young, with kindness in his heart that was covered in layers of darkness and being left alone to himself. Who had a father who loves him so very much, but she also would tell him that sometimes love is not enough. But that at the end, it does survive even when a person is not there any more to receive all that love. She would tell him about his mother, Emma, who choose to see good in people until the end, about the town where Miles and Bass came from. About two boys who grew up there.
She would tell him about Ben. She would even tell him about a boy named Jason, because behind all that hurt, it is the story of a girl, so young and green, that found her first head over heels love near a river bank and in a young boy. It is a story is worthy to be told.
When he would fall in love for the first time, he would understand, her half brother. Miles and Sophie's son. Miles' pride. Lilly's pride. Their pride and joy. Another Matheson. Another life added to their group. Their little group of three that now became a groupf of five.
She was going to sit down next to Benji, and tell him about the people who tried to live and survive and love in a world that became so much harder after the blackout.
The stories were what remained. The stories were hers to tell, and would be his to tell one day. In this world, that was how memories survived.
Because in stories, that is where the people you love are safe.
So she would tell him over and over again. The little boy, that is Miles and Sophie's. But not now, because he is so little, only five, but a real man in his heart already. Right now he wanted to hear other stories. They were happy, Miles and Sophie and Miles is a great father, still a bad ass, still kind and warm. Sophie took care of his heart as no other woman ever did.
A couple of years later, another child was born. Little Anne is followed by her baby sister Joy, a year later. Their little group of three turns into their group of seven. The little girl, and the little baby girl, that belong to Charlie and Bass are what happened when two people came together in passion and fighting for the other.
Anne and Joy have their eyes, and smiles, and her stubbornness, and his kindness and their joined talent to get into a lot of trouble and their joined heart to get to other always out of that trouble when they will grow up.
Grow up with a strong mother, a loyal loving father who would do anything to keep his family safe. Grow up with little Benji, grow up with an Uncle Miles and Aunt Sophie in a small community where life is safe and good.
'Daddy, tell me a story!' Little blonde curls move stubbornly up Bass' long legs.
Anne finds her way to the safety of Bass' arms that gently move around his daughter. Anne's eyes filled with trust for her daddy, who is her hero, and who's kiss she needs every night before he brings her to bed, a little girl in strong fatherly arms. She found a place against Bass' chest. Her little thumb in her mouth. Her smaller sister is in Charlie's arms.
'Yeah Uncle Bass, one with knights please.' Benji almost yells with enthusiasm.
Benji, who grew up fast, and thinks of himself as quite a man, but still loves it when his aunt Charlie hugs him and messes with his hair, joined them where Charlie and Bass had been sitting in front of the fire. The fire that both Miles and Bass made in the garden. The flames dance in the air, giving them warmth. The last glowing light of the day is illuminating them.
Charlie felt Bass eyes as he grinned at her. As he tells her with his eyes how much he loves her and the wonderful children she gave him. As he tells her there is nothing he would not do for his family. Tht he would still fight for them, for her. For his girls.
Than he grinned at himself, how he once had said against Miles in those frustrating weeks on the road a long time ago. 'What are you going to do? Retire and play house with your girls huh?'
Well, life could be a bitch, because hell, here he was. He was not sure about the retire thing, he was not old as his brother and Bas Monroe was a lot of things but retire and old were not there in his dictionary. But the part with his girls? He was so into that.
Benji sat down close to Anne, and Charlie and his favourite uncle Bass. Who he felt like he had found a second father in. He had punched a kid in school who said Bass was not his real family because family was only blood. Benji had punched the kid who dared to say that right on the nose, telling him exactly how much family his uncle Bass was.
Miles had told Benji not to crash other kid's noses any more, but then he had looked at Bass, at the moron that was his family, his blood, and pride had been beaming in both Bass and his own eyes. That kid, he was going to be just fine. They had poured a glass of whiskey and shared a table, a glass and pride and love for their family.
Just like they had done in Jasper, just like they had done on base, just like they had done in the early years of the Republic, when they had laughed and brought back memories of strippers and more good men stuff.
So, in the end, some things do survive, some things and values make it whole towards another point in time.
It was there, around that fire in a forest in a small town between people that were family in every meaning of the word, what they kept them going, what gave them something to fight for, without even knowing it themselves. They could sense it, it was all in the air.
'Knights it is,' Bass looked from Charlie, still gorgeous and fucking hot as ever, to his two little girls, that carry so much goodness in them, Anne and Joy, to Benji, to that one boy that felt like his own, that already watched out for his two little sisters, because that is how that little boy felt about his girls. Bass looked back to Miles and Sophie. He grinned to his brother who has a grin on his own face. Brothers.
Brothers in arms, brothers through time.
Always, brothers.
Charlie moved closer to Bass, to his tall body sitting next to her, to strong large arms encircled around his daughter, as he moved her closer and kissed her slowly. Earning him giggles from Anne, a little baby noise from Joy, a Benji that was not happy with this sight, a laughing Sophie and a Miles that still groans when Bass touched his niece.
'Dear God, Bass, I am begging you...the story,' Miles groaned, but with a warm smile in his eyes as he looked at Charlie. Charlie looking back at him, happy for having him. Miles. Her home, Her insides. Hers. She smiled at him. Sharing one love for one man. Bass.
'Yeah Uncle Bass, the story!' Benji mimicked Miles' tone as Bass couldn not help but laugh. Charlie grinning next to him, raising an eyebrow at so much Miles watched in his kid.
In the background, and old ferris wheel was a shadow next to the small town, the golden sun illuminating its structure.
Charlie felt Bass hand over her upper arm, as his arm moved around her. As she took in the scent of whiskey, and his strong manly scent, warm, home, and still turning her on, knowing what they will do when he would move in bed next to her later tonight, side by side, slowly making love as he made her gasp with desire and want and lust as she would come in his arms, and he would come in hers. Still after all that time, he is the only one for her. They still fight, she still stubborn, he still an crude ass.
Sebastian Monroe.
Bass.
He winked at her, knowing damn well what he was going to do to her later, when he had her alone in bed. One look from her and he knew she knew. Dammit, this woman.
Charlotte Matheson.
Charlie.
Their eyes locked and she felt the old shiver and goodness inside of her, flowing, enjoying her body responding to him, to all of him, his strength, his ego, his impossible lines that still infuriated her, his kind heart and the way she knew he will always protect them.
The children sighed with content as the grown ups finally are quiet, and Bass settled in for a good long story. With knights, and castles. And fights and princesses for the girls with long dresses and pretty curls. Princesses that can fight too, of course. Anne is the daughter of Charlie Matheson. Her princesses are ones of beauty but they know how to fight. It always earned Bass a couple of giggles from Anne, a chuckle from Charlie if he was lucky and he could never ever get enough of that in the history of ever.
And Charlie watched him, knowing if Bass knew how much he resembled Aaron right now, telling his story, making the kids smile, he would tell her this time she was delusional.
Sophie moved, and sat between the safety of Miles' legs a step lower on the porch, her body turned to his chest, Miles' hand around her waist and shoulder. The crickets filled the air, as their love for each other did too as Bass started another story.
'Once, there were these two boys who met this strong and beautiful blue eyed princess...'
To be continued, because love never stops...
'The people you love are always safe and home with you.'
I wanted to write this story with that thought the whole way there. Somebody once shared this thought with me, after facing loss and grieve myself.
Knowing loss, and we all know loss, is such a hard process. It never stops. It changes. But never stops. This was a story that started with the darker story we read about in the comics and yes, I stopped at an earlier 'frame' in the comics. But I had to. I could not NOT write this story this way.
Maybe you recognise where we finished the story, it is the place where we began the story of Revolution once, with Aaron in that small village teaching the children, now Bass there, telling the children stories Aaron would tell. Miles holding Sophie, in the way he held Emma once in Jasper. I hid all these little pieces of Revolution in this story.
I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It became a very personal story to me, because I really believe the people that we love, hear with us, or the ones we had to say goodbye to, are safe with us.
Are home with us. Are safe with us in our stories.
Thank you for reading, with my gratitude I wish you all that is good, for all of you. Love from Love